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Enter the Abyss
Enter the Abyss A Deep Breath Sting was watching over her. It wasn't an act out of desire, conscience or duty but a simple unknown longing that was formed in the pit of his gut. He knew that, for one reason or another, the scent of this young Slayer bore striking resemblance. For whatever the reason, fate has bound them together and his arrival felt beyond coincidence; almost a divine providence in his eyes. He alone could foresee a coming darkness that was entwined with the path she walked, and though she found comfort -or dread- in the company of others, he'd be the only person capable of withstanding the horrors that befall her wake and coming steps. Leaning against the wall, she cast a gaze over to Morgan's sister, whom was also in silent contemplation. While she and the others were spared from the devastation of the battlefield that was wrought, he could see she was strained emotionally. The mental toll of the Black Briar's invasion must have put her into hysteria, especially since she was unintentionally separated from her sibling. Whatever the case may be, he hoped she'd keep the calm that has renewed her spirit and kept her from being a burden to himself or her sibling. "Heyyyyyyyyyyyyy!~" Maria Streak skipped into view, looking over to the pair with a bubbly persona that defied the atmosphere they possessed. "What are you so down about?! Aren't you going to help with the repairs?!" "That's the Spirits' job," Maria Alexander replied mirthfully, sticking her tongue out at her lime haired companion. "And can't you read the air? I'm not in the mood for your antics. Go bother Yui-" "But Yui will beat me up!" Bemoaned the goggle-headed Athlete Mage. "Not my problem, is it?!" She sharply snapped back at her. "C'mooooooooon," The emerald haired girl flopped over Maria, rubbing her face against the brunette's with blubbering tears staining her cheeks. "I need someone to alleviate this dull mood!~" "The mood is Morgan got hurt and we didn't do shit!" Maria swore, her voice filled with enough energy as she shoved Streak back enough to cause her to stumble back and fall on her buttocks. Tears welling up in her eyes, Maria slapped her crimson bloused breasts and declared to the wide-eyed teenager with no restraint on the volume of her voice now. "I could've helped her! We call could've helped her! There were enough of us, and we aren't weak! We should've kept her from being hurt as bad as-" "You all would've gotten in her way," Sting spoke bluntly, causing the tear-ridden brown head to turn around and glare daggers at him. Uninhibited, he dryly declared with cool blue eyes staring deep into her own azure irises. "Imagine, for a second, if you stood before Swartz. A man that not even your father was able to defeat on his own. How do you think you could've helped your sister, a Dragon Slayer, to do any better? The answer is simple; even with all of my power, I'm not certain I could've stopped that monster without some form of consequence. Especially to your sister." "You don't know that!" She stamped her foot forward, looking up at him defiantly as her fists balled at her sides. "You can't see it, but we've done amazing things together! Don't underestimate the bonds of siblings, Council dog!" "M-Maria-" "Not now, Streak!" Alexander barked at her stunned companion without thinking. "The bonds of siblings," Sting murmured, earning her returning gaze until it caused her to stumble back at the blinding aura that was being emitted, with a coldness that escaped his every following words as he glared empty cerulean discs back at hers. "Bonds like those wither away in the light of truth and facts. Do not delude yourself with foolhardiness and bluster, spoiled princess. I am living proof that bonds do not survive the death of flesh and life; remember your place in the grand scheme of the world as it rends your hopes and dreams asunder." Morgan’s slumbered relatively peacefully, at least for a while. As she slept, however, she dreamed. And her dreams never remained peaceful or pure. Though, to call them dreams wasn’t completely accurate. They were more like visions of madness, of pain and regrets. It took a while for her to fall entirely into the sweet embrace of sleep, an embrace that would not last for long, regardless of what she wished for. Taunts from Jadow, flashes of the battle she had barely lived through just recently, countless scenes of torture and misery all blended together to provide the perfect nightmare, a self-crafted hell to punish herself for not being strong enough, not being able to follow through with her boasts. However, she was eventually forced from the dreadful illusion by loud sounds coming from outside her room, her body instinctively waking up as if she thought they were under attack again. Without any time to think, she was catapulted from her slumber and sat up in bed, breathing heavily. Indistinct at first, she heard shouts, crying voices and pleas. But as her mind grew more aware of the world around her, things became clearer. She could make out her sister and Sting arguing about something or other. The sounds of their rather loud discussion prevented her from finding sleep again. Dull and aching pains throbbed just under the skin. She had healed pretty well all things considered but now the usual exhaustion had taken the place of blinding agony born from broken bones and ripped muscles. The next sensation she was aware of was that she was coated in sweat and what she was sure was dried blood. “Must’ve gotten beat up worse than I thought.” she muttered. Slowly, the girl scanned the room, seeing that she had been left undisturbed and that by the light streaming into the room, she had been asleep for hours. She flug off the covers and got out of bed, recoiling at first as her body rebelled against the simple act of getting out of bed. Remaining upright took a lot more effort than she expected. Once she felt stable on her own two feet, she walked at a snail’s pace towards her door, fearing that moving anywhere near what passed for a reasonable walking speed would be worse for her. She opened the door and saw her friends weren’t there, so she walked down the hall. Taking slow, measured steps and using the wall for support, she was able to get around pretty well and found Maria and the others. “W-what’s with everyone?” she asked weakly, taking a step towards them, no longer using the wall to try and prove she was alright. “I’m fine, really…” she lied, stumbling and falling to the ground, barely able to catch herself in her current state. Such clumsiness was unlike her, but with her body in its current condition, there was nothing she could do. "Morgan-!" Maria cried out, finding herself paling at the sight of injury her sister was in. She hadn't thought of what she was doing until now and she felt utterly ashamed. Before she could even hear out what her sibling was saying, she was already keeling over. Despite all of this, Sting was the one to lean over and catch her in the midst of her descent to the floor. His gloved arm wrapped around her midsection and a soft, cold stare emanated from his forlorn visage. Sighing aloud, Sting whispered in a gentle chastising manner to the weakened Slayer, "I told you, you need to rest. I apologize for allowing our disagreement to wake you but you must go back to bed." "No," Maria spat out, though with less venom than before, as a look of helplessness crossed her eyes for a moment before she closed it up with a caged wall of stoicism. "I'll do it. It's the least...I can do now." Nodding with solemn understanding, the White Slayer stood upright and let Morgan drift over to Maria's grasp, enabling her to carry her back to the bed. In the walk, the brunette couldn't help but look baffled at the blonde's sad expression as he walked out, hopping over the balcony to land deftly on the lobby floor below. Streak herself seemed to hang her head and tread quietly away, much to the Alexander's dismay for hurting more people than she intended. "You must think I'm really petty," Maria whispered aloud, laying Morgan over the bed, tucking her beneath the covers as she kept her eyes covered by her bangs. "Arguing about something so loudly, inconsiderate of your need to recouperate. I'm so stupid to think these things and act in such a contradictory way; I hope you'll get better soon, so I can apologize to you more properly." Morgan flinched as soon as Sting caught her, her body was rebelling against even the smallest sensations. No matter how small, a touch caused her incredible pain at the moment. She looked at her sister apologetically, even as the girl brought her back to their room, barely able to do much beyond letting herself be returned to bed. It didn’t take the ability to read someone’s emotions to know exactly what Maria was thinking, not after all this time together. Deep down, the young Slayer felt like her sister’s current mental state was more her fault than anything else. "How...how can you understand how hard this is? You...you don't have even the slightest clue!" Her own words came back to haunt her. How could she be so selfish? All Maria ever did was offer her companionship, a person who never once gave up on her, not even when all she deserved was to be hated, scorned. Yet time and again, all Morgan did was cause pain and distress to her sister, never intentionally but there was no difference when that was all she ever did. The comfort of her own bed brought out a contented sigh from her lips and she slowly started to relax again. But then she heard Maria’s apology to her. “Stop...I can’t be mad at you…” she said, her words slow and her voice scratchy as she forced herself to speak above a dull whisper just to be heard. In a way, it was the most she could get to admitting she forgave her amazing sister for whatever perceived slight the girl thought she delivered. Morgan gave a weak, faint smile and closed her eyes. “Hey...when I get done resting...we should train...just us…” Maria felt her heart a'flutter when she heard her sister, weak as she was, insist she wasn't at fault. It made her look back at Morgan's deep blue eyes with a gleam of emotion in her own. She had to restrain herself from hugging her sibling, knowing how much pain she was probably enduring in this state she's in. Instead, she reached out and brushed her sister's face, hearing her feeble voice desire to train together with her. "Yes...I'd love that very much," She whispered softly, rubbing the top of Morgan's head with endearment. Before she'd turn to leave, she thought she saw something -out of the corner of her eye- floating outside the window. Blinking, she took a few steps around Morgan's bed, baffled by what was seen through her gaze. The closer she got to the outside the more she felt an impending dread; swelling up like a whirlwind within the sky. Reaching the opening, she'd open her eyes and have confusion merge with fear. A man was 'standing' in the air, his coat fluttering from the outside altitude, with deep emerald hair flourishing around his crown. A dim gleam of burgundy ebbed from where his eyes were, his mouth opening and closing as he spoke words she couldn't hear from this distance, nor understand. The more she tried to look around, the more she understood something was off with the surrounding outside of the mountain-castle. Everything was...shifting...out of place. Maria didn't know what was going on until she heard the faintest of steps hit the room outside, with Streak coming in shortly after Sting did. As Maria looked over her shoulder, light seem to dim and everything felt like an ugodly surge of force was emitted over the whole of the estate. She let out a scream, Streak a yelp, but Sting became engulfed in the luminous aurora of his own magical power as he kicked off like a ray of the Sun. Spiraling out in an incandescent blur, he reached out with a clawed hand, aiming straight for the floating man's throat-! Then, the whole of their outside became engulfed in a sea of blackness. Everything they felt was out of balance, with the distinct impression the ruined home they stood upon was now not rooted in place. Indeed, when Maria renewed her courage she looked outside and gaped. "W-Where," She faintly whispered with horror in her voice, just as a grimacing Sting was stuck in place, unable to find his quarry nor understand where he and the others were at now. Turning his body to look back, he blanched, seeing not only was the whole castle enveloped in this new sea of emptiness but a large swathe of the mountain had been subsumed with it. Completely severed at points, it looked like the whole of the peak fortress was banished, or captured, in this new place of unknown origin. "Are we?!" Morgan heard Sting run in and a blinding light pierced through the blackness of her closed eyes. “Y-you want me to sleep and then pull that…?” she asked, sitting up just before she felt everything around her moving and it made her nauseous. But as quick as the feeling came, it was gone. But worse, she felt like something was disconnecting her bond to the darkness of the world, an empty sense of unease left where she once felt her source of strength. When Maria asked where they were, she got back out of bed and walked over to the window, her curiosity overwhelming her. That’s when she saw the empty expanse they were now trapped within. Not even shadows crawled through the void, leaving her feeling lost. “How...how did this happen?” she wondered, looking out into the nothingness that surrounded their home. Though she kept the fear out of her words, she bore a worried expression. Fury In The Deep In the mountains of Sin, the Dark Dragon King, Jadow, sat upon a stone chair hewn from the cavern wall. It had been just over a week and finally his wounds from his last battle had healed completely and much of his expended power was restored. He idled away his time by intruding upon his creation’s mind, gazing into her thoughts on a mere whim. His blackened heart pulsed quickly with excitement with every moment she doubted the accursed light her new family tried to vainly instill into her. She was breaking, and it was beautiful. From the moment he felt her urge to fight, her hatred for some lowly criminals, he had joined his sight with hers, looking through her eyes as she fought the group her memories had told him were the Black Briar gang. He had to admit, the girl’s skills were far greater than he had expected them to be against such foes. Perhaps he felt pride in her for exceeding what he held her capable of, but there was much more pride in the knowledge that she was merely his instrument, his experiment. She only lived because he declared it so. He was intrigued by the fact that she had already learned how to tap into her true nature to the extent she was capable of turning her body into pure shadows to evade attacks that were sure to be fatal. He took it as a sign of her coming fall from grace, the completion of a project nearly two decades in the making. He laughed as he witnessed the sheer scope of her powers and the growing insanity that came with it. She was stubborn, that he would grant her, but that bravado could only get her so far and eventually she would snap. And he would witness that moment and savor every instant. A few hours after the fighting had drawn to a close, he felt a twinge and knew instantly he had lost her. Scarlet eyes bolted open and his lips curled into a snarl as he ran through the possible reasons why. “Impossible! If she’s alive, I should be able to…” he growled, growing more livid by the moment.”She’s mine! MY flesh! Her free will be damned, she is mine!” his shouts echoed in the halls etched deep into the rock he called home. Taking a deep breath, he outwardly calmed himself, his rage barely constrained by the facade of the ex-Councilor he had been. “Something's wrong...Perhaps I should go visit my child, just this once.” Without another thought on the matter, he simply walked into his own shadow on the wall and instantly found himself walking out of a shadow on the path far below where the Alexander estate sat, or rather used to now that he looked up at it.. He judged the shape of the crater left that it wasn’t an explosion, the edges were too clean to be anything but a teleportation of some sort and there was a person floating near the empty and ruined shell of the mountain proper. He sensed nothing out of the ordinary about the person. Creating a dark platform, he rose to the level of the being. “I take it this is your handiwork, human?” he asked in a polite tone, choking down his fury in order to get answers. Abyss had just taken the time to bask in the completion of his task before he felt the world pulse. Something otherworldly had awakened, far away and also nearby. He didn't even have time to confirm its shape before his supposition became reality. Red eyes opened beneath emerald shaggy bangs, his coat fluttering as a cold wind rose up with a black armor & cloaked figure rising up to meet him. When the scaled being rose to be at his altitude, he knew instantly this was the Ragnarok Beast in the flesh, and his eyes became a slanted scowl aimed straight at him. Not being a man of words, he merely reached within the confines of his coat and produced an ancient binding of human-grafted leather over even older parchment. Opening the book from the spine the pages flipped on their own, enabling him to land on the passage he was wanting. Looking down at the text, he began to cite the words of his idol and his object of worship, as follows. "Chapter XIII, Verse Thirty One: In the hour of completing a task so gracefully may come the thief, silent and uncaring, to rob thou of thee's just reward. Do not falter, nor give quarter, for the thief is a deceitful lot thou shant give mercy to thee..." Closing the spine of the book, his eyes opened with a blaring red and all of the world began to spiral in an unforgiving torrential stream of phantom blades born from elsewhere. Hurtling at speeds transcending mortal comprehension, the grotesquely designed hafts and crude barbed blades drilled into the armored individual floating a handful of meters apart from him. In the impact of the thousand plus projectiles came a pentacle shaped blast of unholy flame, spreading outward till it overtook the sky and lengthened till it was as tall as the gouge in the mountain and was just as wide still. "Amen," Abyss breathed out, completely unaffected by the proximity of such destruction he wrought upon the Darkness Dragon King. Jadow arched an eyebrow when Abyss pulled out a book and began to recite a passage from its pages. It took all of his self-control not to start laughing. Religion was something humans created that he put no stock in. He was one of the first things to crawl from the mire left in the wake of the Gods themselves, predating even the earliest cults by eons long forgotten. He saw the swords and his lips curled into a devious grin. Was the strange man really attempting to fight him? Did he not realize who stood in his way? Regardless of whatever reason the mortal possessed, the fight was on and Jadow soon found himself impaled by countless unnatural blades, which in turn exploded and filled his vision with nothing but flame. But he did not scream. Mere humans were nothing compared to him; it took Prometheus to make him feel like he could die after six hundred years after Acnologia’s failed murder attempt. Emerging unscathed, Jadow brushed the soot and dust from his pauldron. “Okay, so that’s how we’re going to play it.” he said nonchalantly, his calm tone and expression barely masking the cold fury that was now coming to the forefront. Before Abyss could do anything further, Jadow closed the gap and grabbed the man by his neck, lifting him by the throat. “Don’t test me boy. If you want to live, you’ll tell me where my Dragon Slayer is.” he said in a raspy snarling tone. For the first time in what felt like an eon, Abyss felt something colder than death's embrace wrap around his neck. Lifted up higher in the air, against his control, he hadn't much time to even fathom a retort when he was held in a vice grip akin to daggers of ice that made up for scales -in the shape of black scaled gauntlets no less-. Even as a wheeze escaped his lips, a hiss from his nostrils, his red eyes glinted and a smile spread across his face regardless. "Ah, so it's for her?" He finally spoke, mustering up a strained voice beyond his grip. Angling his head with audible crunches, showing that his anatomy wasn't normal for a human with his level of power. Shaping the air with his spare hands in a familiar counterclockwise swivel, common for using Zeref's Black Arts, he'd grasp the top and bottom of Jadow's outstretched appendage. Then, all at once, a violent retching of space, time, light and shadow is whipped around as a vortex of immense force not only assaults the Dragon's body but pulls her into the same place he had sent the mountain peak embedded fortress. All the while this happened, his voice came out in a haunted echo across the world that shrank and imploded around the Ragnarok Beast's perspective, "Allow me to show you a place darker than the deepest pits of Hell, withered lizard!" A sick snapping and popping sound alerted Jadow to the fact his captive enemy had done something. He saw Abyss’ neck bent at an odd angle, one no human body could ever contort into naturally. But after countless eons of living, such oddities were of little concern to one such as himself. Seeing motion, he looked at his opponent’s arms and the familiar moves made even the immortal dragon go pale. He cursed Ankhseram for giving even one human the forbidden arts that governed death itself. Before he could do much more than attempt to back away, Abyss grabbed ahold of his wrist. A portal of some sort appeared and as it was opened that close to his body, the Dark Dragon King had no time to avoid being sucked into the spacial maw that threatened to consume him. But before he was absorbed into the world on the other side, he felt a presence, the very presence he came to claim. With his confirmation of where she was, he let himself be swallowed into the void. Inside that space, he fell deeper and deeper down towards the mansion. His boots touched down on the balcony and as he peered inside, he saw Morgan and her family and friends, two things he would one day rob from her as he stamped out whatever light could be found in her. Morgan felt a painful, overwhelming cold descending from somewhere, if the idea of up and down, left and right or any other directions existed in the void they found themselves prisoner within. The source of that feeling was moving far faster than she expected anything to, as if it were drawn to them like a magnet Seconds later, she recognized the overwhelming power barrelling towards their location. Fear and rage boiled up within her as she turned towards the window in time to see her maker landing so close to them all. “Jadow!” Morgan screamed, her rage boiling over as her worst enemy stood before her. She slowly stepped between him and the others, never once breaking eye contact with the man. She looked like a predator eyeing its next meal, but it didn’t take a genius to see it was all bravado and fury. Even at her best, she wasn’t a threat to him and both knew it. Jadow stepped forwards. “I wouldn’t recommend you try me right now, girl. You’re in enough pain as it is, it’d be pointless for us to fight in your condition” he said, entering her room with a bored expression. He never got enough of watching his creation acting against him but he wasn’t in the mood to entertain her delusion of even standing on the same level he did. “Now, say your goodbyes. You won’t be seeing these people again after all.” “Wh-what are you talking about?” Morgan asked, scowling. “We’re leaving. As in you and I are getting out of here. Unfortunately for your playmates here, they won’t be joining us.” the humanoid abomination replied, never once looking away from his offspring. "No." She replied flatly, as if there was any doubt of her denying his request for her to follow him. No matter who offered her an escape, she wouldn't dream of leaving with them, not while the people closest to her were still without a way of their own. This was the worst outcome possible. Not only were they cut off from the outside, Sting Eucliffe was certain that they were imprisoned inside of the man that cast that infernal magic. The instant he almost touched him he swore he was pulled inward, and everything that was behind him was siphoned into this abysmal space. He could smell nothing, feel nothing, and taste nothing. This was almost like a black hole with how nothing could exist in such a tangible way. Wait. He felt something stir the world they were inhabiting. Like a sheet of paper that was rustling, he could faintly make it out with his dragon-like hearing. Looking to the left, he didn't see it. Turning over to the right, again, an absence of substance. Then, the world lurched and he'd look up, seeing something torn into it. A swirl like a maelstrom spewed out a contorting physical shape, though its presence breathed a blackness that covered the canvas of emptiness that surrounded him in the weightless void. "No!" His eyes widened, his glowing scales of white vibrating in recognition of something so unholy and despicable appearing. The faint scent of something that poisoned the land of Sin and had scarred an estate that once belonged to a presumably esteemed Councilor. Emerging in the flesh came the red eyed silhouette of a being almost incorporeal in its make as it was thrust into this reality. "It's him!" But, instead of engaging with the floating pulse of a Slayer wrapped in the Ethernano of a Dragon, it flew past him. He felt the cold shudder of its momentum, moving so fast he didn't even have time to process its visual momentum. Turning around, he'd see it stood within the opening of the window, entering inside of the castle; the children inside! "I won't let you!" He howled, his memory flashing to the moment he lost himself to his blood brother and comrade. Engrossed in the fury of white-hot righteous zeal and desperation, he flew in a beam of light, landing onto the still and letting loose a nearly blinding Aura that shook the floating foundations of Alexander Estate. Even as Maria maneuvered to shield her sister from the barely standing Morgan, Sting snarled out as his body crouched aggressively behind the Ragnarok Beast, his gloved hands enveloped in a thick sheen of luminous energy in preparation for an imminent fight. "Step away from the Slayer, and the child, Jadow!" Jadow turned to face Sting when he managed to capture the ancient horror’s attention with his light show. “Oh, it’s you. The failed second coming of Hybrid Theory.” he said in an annoyed tone. “I don’t have the time to play with you right now. I’ve merely come to take my daughter home.” she said, his words carrying a slight hint of boredom. Considering the Second Salamander’s phenomenal showing against him, how could a second-rate carbon-copy of a third-rate Slayer ever hope to compare? Glaring at Sting, he simply grabbed the man and roughly shoved him aside. “I suggest you do what I say Morgan. I’ll at least leave these worms to live out their last days.” the King of Dark Dragons said as he reached for his daughter. Hearing Jadow say he was taking her home, Morgan’s blood ran cold. The fear was gnawing at her but she couldn’t run and leave the others to their fate. But the fire, the drive that gave her the will to fight against all odds was gone, drowned in the icy pit that was her heart as she shrank back in terror. “'What’s wrong with you?! Don’t you hate him?! Revile him?!” a voice screamed in her mind. “If you don’t act, our sister and everyone we know is dead! And so are we!'” Before Morgan could so much as think as to what the voice was telling her, she felt her control over her body slip ever so slightly as her hand, covered in darkness, lashed out, knocking aside Jadow’s gauntlet-covered limb. “If you want me to go so badly, you’ll have to bring them along too.” she said, her fear suddenly vanishing, as if she found the passion she thought was lost. But there was no rage to fuel it, only the thought that she had to act. Reckless as it was, the mere idea of abandoning her family, how she hated it, was the only spark she had to stave off the dread that otherwise consumed her. “You dare…” Jadow snarled. “You are MINE! And I will not tolerate such pathetic attempts at subverting that. You have nothing to bargain with. Not one thing you own is worth enough to give me so much as a second thought to your demand.” he said, his voice dripping with cruelty and fury. In that moment, Morgan understood what she had to do. There was one thing she did have to force Jadow to give in, the only thing she had worth something to him; her own life. She turned the claw on herself, pressing her index finger into the artery on her neck, a single bead of blood forming and racing down to her chest. “I'll rip out my throat if you don't agree to let us all out.” she said in a tone of finality. She had, in that single instant, threw aside the doubt and fear, giving an ultimatum with her life and the lives of her family as collateral. As imperceptible as it was, the tiny look of rage that crossed Jadow’s face, the fact she could feel more than that under the surface, gave the Slayer of Darkness all she needed to know. It was checkmate. Jadow was livid but he couldn’t act on it, not without killing her in her current state. Either he surrendered or she died, it was as simple as that and both knew it. But such wagers were not made lightly, especially not by the girl who's only instinct was to survive. His hand clenched into a fist, the only outward sign of his anger.“I see...You’re willing to die for these vermin, willing to throw away the gift of life I gave you for their sake. If you desire to save them from dying sooner or later; here or at the hands of the Coven, then do it yourself. Drag them out of this empty world by your own hand.” he told her in that same caustic, furious tone, never once breaking eye contact other than to glance at the blackened limb she bore. He had to admit, her tenacity in defying him was astounding, taking perhaps the greatest gamble of her life and living to see it pay off. But he would not give her the satisfaction of just bowing to her whim. Like everything else, he would make her fight for it. "Then tell me the secret. How do I walk though a shadow? How do I bring them with me?" the girl asked of him as she lowered the clawed hand to her side, leading to the ancient lizard letting out a barking laugh. "I never thought you'd ask me to train you again. Very well child. We start now." he said in an ominous tone. "Start nothing!" Sting snarled, leaping off the window frame with a fist poised to hit him from behind. "Holy-!" "WAIT!" Maria shouted, teleporting herself in between Jadow and the White Dragon Slayer. Her arms were outstretched, her eyes squinted shut in the face of his blinding radiant aura and her teeth bared with a brave hold of her spread-armed stance. "They made an agreement! You can't interfere!" "And why the Hell shouldn't I?!" The blonde haired man spat with vitriol, a look of fury that crossed his normally placid features that made Maria's partially opened eyes look on in fear. "He's the Ragnarok Beast! He deserves to die; I won't let him take Morgan!" "He won't," Maria began to say, a smile breaching on her face as she arched her eye around towards the broad, endlessly black cloak and flowing hair of Jadow's human-shape. "Because, father placed a special barrier within this very castle. If anyone was to make an oral contract, their fates shall be sealed by it. If you, or the contracted, attempt to break it, dire consequences could be had." "REALLY?!" Streak shrieked, her hands holding a chair over her head in readiness to throw at Jadow. "Yes, really," She replied with visible annoyance. For the longest few seconds, Sting remained armed with his anger and his power. But, as the argument was made, Sting's luminous glow died down and he scowled at Jadow. Sneering, he walked past the man and out of the doorway, pushing past Streak and stomping outside. A Lesson in the Pit Maria didn't like it. Even after Sting was convinced to stay his hand against him, Jadow was coerced by Morgan through attempted suicide. The worst part about it? It worked! The Ragnarok Beast was going to teach Morgan how to become strong enough to help everyone get out of here. He was quite convinced she'd fail and wanted to watch her try to at least save herself; her survival instinct or her love of everyone else was what he wanted to test here. So, when he ushered everyone out of what was essentially Morgan's bedroom, Maria Alexander didn't leave Morgan's side. In fact, she sat crosslegged next to her while holding her hand. She stared resiliently back at Jadow, while aiming a smile for her sister's benefit apart from her. Morgan couldn’t believe her gambit succeeded. Even the slightest hesitation on her part, the smallest bit of fear and she knew it would have blown up in her face and Jadow would have called her bluff. But now something she never imagined having to do was unfolding; she had to ask for more training from Jadow. When Maria mentioned a barrier, she had to question if it even existed or if her sister had actually managed to trick the Black Dragon King. That was no small feat, something that should have been impossible but it seemed Jadow bought it, or at least didn’t want to discover the supposed dangerous effects of breaking the taboo. Either way,she had to play along just as much or risk it all being for nothing. But now, being stuck in a room with Jadow, she wanted to scream and run. She felt herself breaking into a cold sweat, heard her breathing turning ragged and shallow. She recalled all the things she endured for over a decade until she ran away. It all came crashing back in a single instant; red-hot pain, the wetness of her own blood, the sharpness of her bones tearing through her skin. It was all clear as day, every sensation etched forever in her memory. And yet here she was, face to face with the one responsible for it all and she had to reign in her fear and loathing to save her family. She held tightly to Maria’s hand, as if letting go meant a death sentence. It did little to calm her, but the contact was the only solace she had and she needed that small bit of hope. “So how do we get out of here?” she asked, her tone betraying her fear just as much as her body was. The Ragnarok Beast however, was in a bit of a quandry of emotions that he normally didn't feel. He had been delighting in the aspect of his child's stubborn rebellion, trying to forge her own path no matter how misguided it may have been based purely on naive desires. The farther she traveled, the more the world began to need to control her or cage her. The harder she fought, the more dependent she became on his outstretched hand. If he wasn't so close to seeing the full potential of this Nightmare Incarnate, he would've abandoned her the moment she told him no. Still, the gumption of her adopted sister definitely reflected the charismatic boldness of her surrogate father. They were as silver tongued as they were clever. If nothing else, he enjoyed seeing the White Slayer be put in his place by merely what he figured was a bluff; one that was uncertain but potentially real if he knew that man Alexander as well as he heard from his wife. "Now, child of my flesh," He began to say, looming over her from his standing posture. "Tell me, what does it mean to be a Dragon Slayer? I don't want you giving me an answer that's crudely simple, I want you to exemplify why you believe and what you believe a Slayer is at your core. This is important for you to fathom what this trial will be for the day." Morgan kept her eyes to the ground as she pondered the question Jadow posed to her. What did it mean to be a Dragon Slayer? But that only begged another question; what did that mean for her own existence? She wasn’t one for introspective thought but rather she was heavily active, so having to search mentally for an answer to such things frustrated her. And the more she thought about it, the more annoying it was when no answer came to her. Silence was all she could muster as she focused on figuring out her solution to Jadow’s puzzling question. It wasn’t her who was the smart sibling, that was Maria’s role. But this wasn’t Maria’s test. No, this was just like everything else her personal hell had to offer, something she had to do alone. She looked back on all the things she accomplished to get as far as she had, how every time she felt she was at the end of her rope she found more power buried underneath what she had used. She recalled against Swartz how she seemingly phased through his attacks. Looking back on it, she realized her body had become like the darkness itself. With that realization, the proverbial light went on in her head. Trembling, she looked up at Jadow. She felt her rage running hot, only tempered by the fact that she needed him to teach her the secret to walking through shadows. Taking a moment to think it through and finding the words she wanted to use to explain herself. “To be a Dragon Slayer...it’s like becoming a part of what you feed on. Darkness isn’t just something to fuel my magic. It’s something more...like taking it and becoming one with it.” she said, instinctively recoiling as she finished speaking, afraid of what the king of darkness would do to her if her answer wasn’t to his liking. She had learned at a young age trying to run or hide would only make it worse. All she could do was hope she was right or at least her words were enough for him. "And that, my dear Morgan, is what make us unique," Jadow informed her with a pointed gesture. Raising up a finger, he made a mock effigy of his dragonic hand, with sparkling black scales formed within a wave of shadow that emanated from his very pores. "When I take the form of my own body, I am conceptually shaping darkness itself into whatever I wish it to be. Through that, I am a malleable force that can be incorporeal as a wisp in the wind or a solid as the hardest mineral. I take in the essence of chaos and negative emotions, becoming something far more than what even most draogns can claim. You can do this as well." Reforming his dragonic hand to its more scale-mail gauntlet shape, he'd form what looked like a black needle. It was thin, and its hole was small as one could imagine. Using his other finger, he formed a thread, funneling it through the hole with perfect precision. As he did this, he continued to explain, "Shaping our darkness into whatever shape we wish of it is our most defining attribute. The Salamander will only forever burn things, no matter the form. The light bulb of a mannequin can only illuminate and take the consistence of light. Shadows are everywhere, and they take shapes of all kinds; beyond even that, we can take upon whatever metaphysical existence we wish to become." As the thread funneled out of the other side, the thread began a massive hand that oustretched to the side and clawed at the far wall. It was still containing the thread that funneled almost tranquil like through the hole of the needle. But apart from it, it still was a massive limb on the other side. Dispelling the darkness, he raised the needle for Morgan to look at it. "Funnel your shadow through the needle. Once you do that, keep practicing for the rest of today. Mastering it will begin the first step in achieving what you are seeking." Morgan let out a quiet sigh of relief when Jadow told her she was actually right instead of striking her. She was certain the world had gone mad, it was so unlike the monster that gave her power and a target for all of her hate. It left her feeling hollow and cold, like his praise was just him putting on airs, masking his intentions and trying to get her to lower her guard. But she would not rise to his veiled provocations, as tempting as the bait was. She had to bite her tongue, refrain from lashing out, all in the hope that she would be able to free her family and friends and her home from the void. Her whole body shook with the lingering fear that she was doing nothing more than walking right into a trap. Even when she was certain Jadow wouldn’t hurt her directly, she made sure to keep her guard up. There was no telling if his wrath would find another target, specifically Maria. Her greatest source of strength was just as much her greatest weakness and there was no doubt in the young Slayer’s mind that her tormentor was fully aware of that, she couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t do something just for the cruelty of it. After listening to the explanation of what Jadow expected for her to accomplish within the day, she set about practicing. The most difficult part was recalling the empty, almost ethereal way her body had felt when she shifted her physical mass into shadows; weightless, empty, yet still there, fully under her control even when half of her brain was turned to darkness itself. She only experienced the sensation briefly and under the influence of her rage and the loss of awareness that it had brought, only remembering how she felt like from a half-remembered dream. Such was the first obstacle she had to overcome. Minutes ticked by, then the first hour, another half an hour blinked by and the most she had succeeded at was to turn just a single finger into shadow. A crude start, woefully ineffective; such weakness would never free those she cared for from the empty prison they floated in. And it frustrated her to no end. After a constant string of failed attempts, she let out a growl of pure rage, overcome with her own hate for her own failures. “Come on! I can do this!” she yelled, more at herself than to the two in the room. Seeing her own lack of progress made her hate her weakness and lack of understanding all the more. I have to find the trick...I have to! Jadow stared at her coldly. He had no intention of coddling her as much as beating it into her head. If she was going to succeed in doing what she wished, she'd have to use her own power. Anymore than what he explained would defeat the point of this lesson. If she was anywhere close to as talented as he believed her to be, she didn't need to be explained in minute detail. Time was a factor as well. The Ragnarok Beast was a being known for his patience, he had after all spent his free time witnessing the decay of an entire nation for his personal enjoyment. He basked in their suffering, clutching their lives in a bond of terror they couldn't escape from. He enjoyed every second of their misery, and bestowed that collective anguish onto his spawn. He had hope it'd sink deep into her pores, give life to her existence; but, something intriguing happened afterwards. She had felt horrified. A creature of his own flesh and blood was actually capable of empathy. At first this upsetted him and he showed his contempt for these human-like emotions. No one born of his body should act this way, it was apalling as much as embarassing. It was a weakness that should be culled and not let sit in, making her soft and unable to move forward. But, something happened. When the foolish, naive and pitiful creature called Faer Pleigh came, bemoaning his own failure to save everyone and cursing his spawn for leading him into certain doom, something transpired in her mind. She developed a spine. She had actually managed to strike him for the first time, and say all of the horrible things she believed him to be; not that she was wrong, but she had never once raised a hand in retaliation. Even though she ran away, it gave him a realization that molding her to be more human was more advantageous for someone to inherit his role as a being of chaos. If her frustration was the flint to cast the sparks of actual improvement, perhaps then, he could see her at her lowest state and evolve even further? However, she didn't struggle for long. Maria, who had been eerily quiet and keeping herself ever-so close to her sister, had moved beside her. She placed a hand over Morgan's and she spoke in a comforting way that caused Jadow to squint at her questionably, "Morgan, you're trying too hard. Just relax, and follow my lead." "What are you-?" He trailed off, as Maria formed a string of ether that glided effortlessly from her palm that folded on top of Morgan's. Through it, a trail of light was left in barrier particles that maneuvered through the small hole in the black needle that Jadow held up with a death-like stillness. Fettering out to the other side, she soothed her by keeping her other arm wrapepd around her shoulders, keeping her warm present as she gently smiled as she looked with bright eyes into Morgan's deep blue orbs. "You're at your best when you don't think about it, Morgan. It's why you're able to grasp onto spells when your mind is lifted and your heart is still. Just follow my lead and you should be able to do the rest," She informed her sister, absolutely confident that her adopted sibling could do as she instructed. Morgan looked at her sister, relieved that she was there to help. There was too much riding on her succeeding at learning the secret Jadow lorded over her and every second she was stuck on mastering the basics was another second they were lost within the empty space they found themselves in with their captor keeping them prisoner. And it was only her abilities that could save them from certain doom. She watched the glittering threads Maria made to exemplify what it was she had to accomplish. It looked so easy, so simple to understand, but the key difference was using her own body at the catalyst. The ghostly Slayer focused on mirroring the path Maria had laid out. A razor-thin wire of shadow extended from her finger and weaved around and through the glowing thread that had been made just seconds prior, the two magics producing sparks of Eclipse Rays that quickly reduced to smoke every time they touched. And soon enough, the tip of her elongated, shadow-transformed finger found its way through the head of the needle. Just barely did the thread of darkness pass through the eye of the needle before retracting, proving that for now where Morgan’s limitation was. But her flawed form still progressed all the same. All she had to do was to improve the art of becoming darkness incarnate and master the ability Jadow would impress upon her. “It’s still not enough.” she said quietly, returning her intention on turning more and more of herself into malleable darkness. If she could do it with just a finger, there was no reason she couldn't get more complex. "It's fine, just take your time," Maria encouraged with a smile on her face. She'd continue to guide her along, keeping close with her adopted sibling, and showing her the path to coil her energy in the way that could be used appropriately to the task set by her progenitor. Even if this was a horrid being, there was merit to fulfilling the task and learning something new. Even she was finding something fascinating in what the Ragnarok Beast was trying to instill, even if she helped strongarm the Dragon into keeping civil. Hours would pass, and the sight of Morgan finally weaving energy in a fine tuned thread that expanded outward into a somewhat shapely black claw on the other side. It was a painstaking effort to help coax her this far, but Maria was pleased to see such progress made in a fraction of the time that transpired from when they began to now. "Your next lesson," Jadow began to say, suddenly speaking after being silent for so long. "Is to force yourself through the needle in a finesse as you are doing with your energy. That is your second task. If you can do this, then the third task will be obtainable even for your infantile state."